


The Art of Losing

by Katharija



Category: Class (TV 2016), Doctor Who & Related Fandoms
Genre: Boys Kissing, Canon Compliant, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Angst, Happy Ending, How Do I Tag, I feel like I should warn you, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Inspired by Poetry, M/M, Melancholy, Mostly Fluff, Other, Post Episode Three, almost a panic attack, also polish poetry mention, but this is fluff I swear, for now
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-19
Updated: 2017-03-19
Packaged: 2018-10-07 11:50:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,270
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10359762
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Katharija/pseuds/Katharija
Summary: Matteusz has just lost his family and home, Charlie lost everything he loved before and they only start to know each other but is it really impossible for them to stay together?In other words, Charlie tries to comfort Matteusz and ends up comforted by him, also there is a lot of talking about poetry and basically mostly fluff.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * A translation of [Gdy stracę ciebie](https://archiveofourown.org/works/10329380) by [Katharija](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Katharija/pseuds/Katharija). 



> I don't usually translate my work and I'm not sure this was the best idea but as a polish girl, who lived for a while in the UK myself, I feel really strongly about Matteusz and I thought that people could appreciate some headcanons coming from a polish point of view. But this is not the main focus of that fic since it was inspired by an English poem by Elisabeth Bishop, "One Art". It was given to me as a prompt so I'm putting here the lines that inspired me the most:
> 
> “The art of losing isn’t hard to master;  
>  so many things seem filled with the intent  
>  to be lost that their loss is no disaster.
> 
> Lose something every day. Accept the fluster  
>  of lost door keys, the hour badly spent.  
>  The art of losing isn’t hard to master.
> 
> (…)
> 
> I lost two cities, lovely ones. And, vaster,  
>  some realms I owned, two rivers, a continent.  
>  I miss them, but it wasn’t a disaster.
> 
> —Even losing you (the joking voice, a gesture  
>  I love) I shan’t have lied. It’s evident  
>  the art of losing’s not too hard to master  
>  though it may look like (Write it!) like disaster.”
> 
> Also, those few polish words are translated at the end.

**The Art of Losing**

Matteusz doesn't have time to collect much from his recent home. They have only about an hour before his parents will come back from the Sunday mass and one of Matteusz's cousin, who offered to transport his stuff by car to Charlie's house, has even less time before he is going to have to go to work. Eventually, there are only two bags of clothes and the backpack filled with textbooks and school supplies that land on their shared bedroom’s floor. The battered laptop and some thoughtfully chosen books Matteusz puts on the bed, just to lie dramatically next to them the second after.

"I thought I'll have to buy another wardrobe," Charlie says, looking in consideration at his neatly hanging shirts and cardigans. "But we'll fit together without a problem."

"Mhm," Matteusz mutters, his eyes fixed on the ceiling. "When I came here from Poland I had only one suitcase with me."

"When I came here with the Doctor, I had only the Cabinet," Charlie smiles sadly and there is a hint of guilt behind his words but his boyfriend either doesn't see it or pretends not to. Charlie feels bad lying to him but he can't bring himself, to tell the truth about Cabinet's content, not yet.

"You always know what to say to make me feel better, don't you?" Matteusz answers amusingly, putting his arms under his head so he could look at Charlie without the effort.

"Really?"

"Yes, it wasn't sarcastic," Matteusz assures him, grinning widely. "Ok, maybe a little but I meant it, I feel better..."

"That's good."

"...Just please, don't make me unpack all of that stuff now. We can do it later. Or tomorrow."

"There's a school tomorrow."

"After the school then," Matteusz sighs. "I'm drained today."

"Drained?" before Charlie says something more, he remembers it also means "tired" but it still surprises him that carrying a couple of bags upstairs can make someone exhausted, even if this someone is as never-having-enough-sleep as Matteusz is. 

"Like, metaphorically," Matteusz explains him immediately, used to Charlie's weird questions. "I'm mentally tired."

"What do you mean by  _mentally_ tired?" Charlie decides to get around the pile of clothes finally and he sits down on the other side of the bed. "Is that a metaphor too?"

"No, I don't think so. It's like... When your body is fine and you have enough of energy to do things but you can't make yourself do to them, like..." Matteusz looks into his eyes scanning for a spark of understanding. "You know, like when your mind is tired, you've never felt that way?"

"No, I don't think I ever have," Charlie says, trying to imagine that strange feeling. "So, literally, it just means your soul is tired?"

"If you believe you have one."

"I mean, that's stupid," chuckles Charlie quietly, "how can the  _soul_ be tired?"

Matteusz smiles softly and shrugs.

"It's just how it works."

They both get silent for a while, lost in thought. Charlie looks outside the window and observers how the wind, stronger with every second, tosses around red and golden leaves. At this time of the year, he could almost forget this is not his planet but almost is not enough still. Besides, he is not even sure if he would like to forget.

"God, I hope I haven't forgotten anything important," Matteusz sighs when the fine rain starts to hit against the glass. "I left my keys to the landlady so they would not think about changing the lock or something equally absurd."

"So you really think, they would never like to see you again?" asks Charlie gently.

"Well, how could I know?" Matteusz frowns. "I gave them some time, didn't I?"

Charlie can hear the pain behind these words and he reaches out to him not really knowing what to say.

"I'm fine," Matteusz says instantly but he takes one hand from beneath his head and he interlaces his fingers with Charlie's. "As long as I may live here..."

"As long as you  _want_ to live here."

"I'll be eighteen in January," Matteusz continues and it sounds as if he is trying to convince himself most of all. "So, I won't have any problems with finding a job."

"If that's what you want," Charlie squeezes his hand.

"And when I'll save some money," his boyfriend smiles finally, "after our exams we could go to Poland for a couple of days. To visit my grandma, you know."

"Okay," Charlie says faintly because Matteusz's dreamy expression makes him breathless for a moment. "Which grandma,  _babcia Jadzia_  from the city or  _babcia Zosia_  who has the dog?"

Matteusz laughs shortly.

"Ares, the dog I told you about, died about three years ago and grandma has not got another one yet," he answers and Charlie leans a bit closer as he can't have enough of his smile. "But I was talking about grandma Zosia. She has that really nice, big house, with guest rooms and everything... I think that even Miss Quill could go with us if she would like to."

"Mhm," Charlie decides it is not the best moment to remind him that it is not for Quill to decide. "Go on."

"And if the nights were warm we would sleep in the tent in the garden," Matteusz continues and his eyes sparkle with enthusiasm. "We did that with my cousins once a while. We would make a fire and when our grandpa was still alive he would bring us sausage and potatoes that we would bake... And there's an orchard too! Not a big one but we could eat cherries and pears and currants and..." Matteusz wrinkles his forehead. "I have no idea how do you call these fruits in English but I miss them, green ones, round and little, rough to touch..."

"There is a very high probability that I have never seen this plant in my life," Charlie reminds him, leaning forward again and putting the books lying between them aside. "Weren't you the one to laugh at me for mistaking strawberries with raspberries?"

Matteusz grins widely.

" _Agrest_ ," he says, resting his free hand on Charlie's neck and pulling him closer still. "I'm sure you would like the taste of it," he adds innocently before Charlie will kiss him.

"So grandma Zosia would not mind if I would come with you?" he asks after a while leaning back.

"Nah, I don't think so, she always knew about me," Matteusz mutters lifting his head so he could peck Charlie's lips one more time. "We talked about it once."

"Good," Charlie cuddles by his side thinking about how quickly he got used to this soothing closeness. "And grandma Jadzia?"

Matteusz is silent for a while before he answers, "Grandma Jadzia lives with dad's sister now and I have no idea how would she react. But we could still visit Łódź, Łódź is a wonderful city, though..."

"Yes?" asks Charlie after a couple of seconds.

"I don't know, I went back there for some time last holidays," there is a hint of melancholy in Matteusz's voice now. "And I had that really weird feeling as if it wasn't the same city anymore? I mean, everything's the same, shabby playground near to my primary school, buses are never on time and that one rail station that is always under construction..." Matteusz snorts into Charlie's hair as if there was a joke only he can understand. "But I guess it's me who changed too much? With grandma Zosia that was always for holidays only, while Łódź..."

"I see," says Charlie mildly and then he thinks about his own city or rather about the palace in which he grew up but all the good memories are quickly replaced with the images of his last night there: a broken vase, emptied corridors, blood on the floor that made it hard to run for his life...

"Charlie?" Matteusz starts to gently stroke his arm, "Are you alright?"

"Tell me something more," Charlie asks, closing his eyes and trying to smile even if Matteusz cannot see he his face right now. 

"Sure," Matteusz answers quickly, "About grandma Jadzia... She's really nice, she just went through a lot, like most of the people her age in Poland, you know? But she would always say I'm her favourite grandchild, there are my aunt's kids too but I was the youngest one so she was really upset when parents decided to move to England." He stops rambling for a moment as if reminding himself something. "She was a polish teacher and she knows I like poetry a lot so she gave me that book when I was leaving... Hold on." Matteusz pulls him closer and reaches behind his back looking for a right book from the pile. "It's an anthology of polish poetry." He gasps when he finds it and Charlie opens his eyes to see a really thick book with black and violet cover. "They aren't translated but..."

"Will you read me some?" Charlie asks quietly.

"Sure," Matteusz repeats, opening the book, "Anything at all?"

Charlie nods swallowing hard. After a while, Matteusz finds the right page and he starts to read. His voice sounds differently when he speaks in his rustling language as if it was truer somehow, it is more tender and matches the sound of the rain behind the window and for Charlie, it is like listening to a beautiful exotic song so when Matteusz finishes the last line he's almost completely calm again.

"You liked it?" Matteusz whispers with a smile and Charlie nods again.

"Was it about love?" he asks and to his surprise his boyfriend bursts into laughter.

"What is it?" Charlie lifts his head to look at him.

"It-it was about the uprising though I may see why you got such impression."

"What's so beautiful about the  _uprising_?" Charlie asks not sure if Matteusz is serious about this.

"Ah, we Poles are really into uprisings," says Matteusz almost proudly before he'll add in his more serious manner: "It's not that I think it is good to romanticise violence of course, but you know, it's more like  _you may take our lives, but you'll never take our freedom!_ "

"Was that from a movie?"

"Yep, you could watch it."

"Mhm," Charlie answers absent-mindedly because somehow this reminds him of Quill. Wasn't she saying something similar, that she would rather die if she had a choice?

"Charlie," Matteusz hesitates, "Was there a poetry on your planet?"

"Well, yes, in a way," he tries to concentrate on the question only. "I mean, there were like songs and epigrams but you would never call them poetry and then there was something like... The Great Art, that's how you may translate it I think, it was when the poet would  _become_ the poem himself."

"Oh, what do you mean by  _become_?" Matteusz asks curiously.

"We had that great festival once a year when we would gather to celebrate the talents of our people and there was a poetry amongst those gifts," Charlie stops for a moment to gather his thoughts and because he doesn't want to sound as if he is reading a textbook on Rhodian culture. "If you decided to write a real poem you would have been working on it for many years and you would have to sacrifice yourself to that purpose, with your body and soul so... You know, Rhodians believe that wanting to do something means the same thing as doing it." Charlie pauses here but Matteusz seems to be fascinated. "So if someone really wanted to put his soul into his poem we believed that it is when he loses it. His soul would not be taken to the Cabinet after his death it would stay in his poem forever. Which is why we would celebrate poetry so much at the first place... It sounds stupid, doesn't it?"

"No," Matteusz disputes, lifting himself on his arm so he could look at Charlie properly, "it sounds beautiful."

Charlie smiles seeing the honest admiration on his face.

"Do you write poems?" he asks with a sudden realisation and Matteusz wrinkles his nose.

"I-I used to,"  he admits smiling to his memories. "In my secondary school and after we moved to London too, for a while..."

"Could I see them?"

Matteusz sighs taking his arm from beneath Charlie and sits up. 

"Ones that I've written by my hand were left in Łódź or in my parents' house," he says. "I have some on my laptop too but it's not a  _great art_  anyway. Apart from the fact that I don't think I could translate them to English even if I tried so..."

"So it looks like I should start to learn Polish," Charlie mutters and he watches as Matteusz eyes start to sparkle with unspoken feelings.

" _Kocham cię_ ," he whispers, gently pushing Charlie's forelock from his face.

"Well, I know this one," answers Charlie quietly, feeling that specific kind of happiness again, the one he never understood before he met that wonderful Pole. 

"And,  _dziękuję_ that you wanted to be my new home."

It's a good feeling, Charlie thinks, even if there is a pain beneath because he fears, he knows that he will lose him one day. He is not brave enough to believe he could stop this from happening but right now Matteusz is by his side, Charlie remembers the rhythm of his heart, feels the warmth of his body under his own fingers and he decides to push that fear aside even if only for a while.

"Thank you for exactly the same."

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!
> 
>  _babcia_ \- means basically 'grandma' and in Poland, we usually use diminutive names while talking about grandmas so _Zosia_ is a diminutive from Zofia (Sophie) and _Jadzia_ comes from Jadwiga (Hedwiga?)  
>  _agrest_ \- 'gooseberry' (ok, I needed to check this one and its English name is so cute)  
>  _kocham cię_ \- 'I love you', that's why Charlie knows it ^^  
>  _dziękuję_ \- 'thank you', also an easy one  
>  Łódź is just a big polish city, I've never lived there so I have no idea why I'm so sure this is where Matteusz comes from but I am sure. :D
> 
> You may have noticed that English is not my first language and I don't have an English beta so if you spotted some bad mistakes please let me know. Also, if you'd like to talk about Matteusz or learn more about some polish stuff you can always message me on my tumblr @nowacja! I'll be happy to help.
> 
> Please comment if you feel like it, I'm quite nervous about posting this time, thanks!


End file.
